Demolition Therapy
by purlysurly
Summary: Facing the challenges of raising a child with behavioral issues is hard enough without the judgmental interference of strangers. This is what happens when someone doesn't judge, simply offering compassion, understanding and support. My contribution for the Fandom for Mental Health Awareness.
1. Teaser

**A/N:** Hello! Here's the teaser for a piece I wrote for the Fandom for Mental Health Awareness compilation. If you would like to be a part of this wonderful cause, go to their site: ffmh . wordpress . com (just take out the spaces around the 'dots').

If you make a donation of just $10 to one of the four listed mental health organizations, and forward your receipt by May 19, you will receive the compilation on May 20. All the details are at ffmh . wordpress . com

What sort of compilation, you ask? Well, hold on to your hats, because this is nothing short of A-MAZ-ING!

More than 70 authors!

Oh, yes, you read that correctly.

More than SEVENTY ... 7-0 ... fabulous authors contributing from various fandoms as well as original fiction. Who are they? Well let's see, there's:

MrsSpaceCowboy EdwardsEternal Ericastwilight & kyla713 A.K.A. PlotbunnyWranglers DarkNnerdy ooza IamBeagle

Sparklymeg Maplestyle Ms. Kathy Hoodfabulous bornonhalloween Myonlyheroin JennaRay Lolo84 anhanninen

GemmaH Winterhorses MissJanuary GeekChic12 PattyRose Bled Dry Cars1 LyricalKris Jayhawkbb JDifrans

Samrosey Tufano79 CullensTwiMistress ceceprincess1217 Fairusa84 Littlemissnorty Robsyummycabanaboy

Compass54 Twiaddictanne addicted-to-romione-bedward Annie-Eliza CookieBun SunshineSally Tagsit Faith in Bones

DH78 Ellie Jacks Jenn0615 Marie One TwificLovah StillDreaming85 Amber L Johnson (107 Year Old Virgin) Ladylibre

bulletproofsuitkink FleetSparrow IDream3223 judolin JMolly MinaRivera Romantic Medievalist ShellThimbles TallulahBelle

NCBexie25 Spidermonkey321 TwilightLadies WeeKittyandTat ForeverRobsessed Jill (pushme_pullme) Speklez meekobb

TheDarkestFallingStar BuggyFiction alaskangirl Rebadams7 magan bagan Purlysurly

So check out this fabulous cause.

Now, here's my teaser for _Demolition Therapy_ (the full one-shot will be posted in September):

* * *

Bella takes a deep breath, steeling herself for an unpleasant, judgmental interaction with the stranger. She looks up to face the man and is taken aback by his demeanor. He is unquestionably handsome, with messy bronze hair, intense green eyes, and a strong jawline. What gives Bella pause, though, is his expression. It doesn't hold judgment or disdain for her seemingly abysmal parenting skills. In fact, it is the complete lack of judgment combined with the genuine concern etched in the lines of his furrowed brow that strike her momentarily speechless.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently.

She nods. "Yeah, I'm okay, thank you."

"You, um, have some blood on your lip," he says, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and holding it out to her. He takes a few slow steps forward, acting as if she's a skittish horse ready to bolt.

"Oh!" Wiping her finger across the tender spot on her lip, she pulls it away only to confirm his observation. "I guess I do. Thank you." She accepts his offering and presses the cloth lightly to the cut.

"So, that seemed pretty intense," he says tentatively. "You're sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I will be." She glances over her shoulder and notes that Alec is watching the interaction intently through the van window. She's certain he can hear at least part of the conversation even though the window is closed.

When Bella turns back to meet the man's eyes, his gaze slides slowly to Alec's window then back to her.

"Could I talk to you for a moment over here?" he asks, gesturing to a spot behind her van.

"Sure, of course," she replies, stepping forward quickly and brushing past him to reach the place he suggested. She's had conversations with "helpful" people before and just wants to get it over with. In her experience, these conversations are never actually helpful.

"Look, my son—"

"I don't mean to intrude—"

They talk over each other, then stop, tossing awkward smiles toward one another.

"I'm sorry. Go ahead," he says.

"Right. Um, so my son has some behavior issues . . . clearly. He's seeing someone and we're helping him learn the skills he needs to better manage his anger. I know this looks bad and I'm sorry if it was upsetting to you—"

"Upsetting to _me_?" the man interrupts, his tone full of disbelief. "I didn't come over here because _I'm_ upset. I came over because I want to make sure you're okay." He dips his head, coming eye level with Bella, and lowers his voice. "Listen, I saw that he landed some good hits on you. Along with your lip, I see the welts on your arm and what looks to be a bite mark. Frankly, miss, if he was a bit older or any bigger, anyone who saw what happened could rightfully call the police. I don't know what challenges your son has, but I do know there's a name for what I just saw, and that's 'assault'."

The man's gentle demeanor and his frankly spoken truth is nearly Bella's undoing. She looks down at her feet, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears welling in her eyes.

"I'm not here to judge you as a parent," he continues. "Or to judge your son. I'm just here as another human being who wants to make sure you both are safe."

Bella garners the courage to look him in the eye.

"Thank you."


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hi All! Here's the start of the one-shot I wrote for the Fandom for Mental Health Compilation. I forgot that this 'little' story was . . . not so little, so I'm splitting it into several chapters, posting daily until done.

Warning: This story contains some domestic abuse: physical and verbal abuse by a child toward a parent and descriptions of past physical, emotional, and verbal child abuse by a parent. It also deals with some of the challenges of finding mental health support services for children.

Thanks to my awesome beta, Alice's White Rabbit, and the maker of my beautiful banner, Christine at Christag_Banners.

 **Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement** **is intended.**

* * *

The midday sun beats down on the blacktop of the parking lot, quickly evaporating the lingering remnants of the latest rain shower in columns of wispy steam. Bella walks swiftly across the lot toward her minivan, multiple plastic grocery bags hanging from both her arms. The sleeveless blue top she wears showcases her straining biceps, giving evidence to the weight of the bags. Her eleven-year-old son strides behind her, empty-handed, executing a little hop-run every few steps to keep up. His red face and angry gestures make it clear to anyone just how irate he is, even if they aren't close enough to hear the ugly things flying out of his mouth.

Bella's goal is to get him and the groceries into the van as quickly as possible before the situation deteriorates further into a full-blown meltdown. The stupid giant toy display right by the cash register was the trigger this time.

"I told you, you fat-ass bitch, if I can't have a new cap gun then I'm not going to practice tonight, and you can't make me!" he yelled. Bella ignored him, hitting the button on her key fob to open the back of the van.

"Bitch! Hey, Bitch! Did you hear me? I'm not going!" he continues, stopping beside her. Quickly placing the bags in the van, Bella turns to Alec, grasping his upper arms and bringing her face close to his.

"You are not to curse or call me names, Alec Charles! You've just lost PlayStation privileges for the rest of the week. And yes, you are going to practice tonight," she says sternly.

"NO! You can't do that! That's mine, and I'll play my fucking PlayStation if I want to! You can't stop me!"

"Just watch me, Alec. You need to control your language before you lose more privileges. Now get in the van." Releasing his arms, she turns and walks to her door. Before getting in she looks back to find him standing, unmoving, where she left him. His mouth is pressed together in a tight line, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, and he's breathing so fast he's practically panting. The situation is a hair's breadth away from getting really ugly. The fact that he's willing to lose this much control in a public place is new. She wonders vaguely what his counselor will say about that but focuses on the current priority of getting him in the van before things escalate.

"Alec, you had a choice whether or not you joined the soccer team, and you said yes. That's a commitment you made, and you need to keep it. The team is counting on you. You are going to practice tonight. Now, come on, get in the van and let's head home," she says in a reconciliatory tone.

Experience has taught her that sometimes Alec can work through these mood swings faster when she simply moves forward as if he is already complying with her. With that in mind, she turns away from him, leaning into the van to set her purse on the center console. She remains keenly attuned to him though, trying to assess if her tactic will work this time, until she drops her keys between the console and the seat. She's only distracted for a moment as she fishes them out but it is long enough that she doesn't hear the feet rushing toward her.

The first punch lands squarely on her spine, right in the middle of her back. Even though Alec is small for his age, anger and adrenaline fuel his aggression, and he attacks with the strength and force of someone much larger. She is taken by surprise, and the punch sends shards of pain radiating up and down her back, causing her to lose her footing. She ends up splayed partially across the seat, scrambling to get her feet back underneath her.

Alec doesn't stop though. His first punch is followed by a kick to her shin and several only slightly less powerful hits to her ribs and midsection before she's able to stand and raise her hands in self-defense.

As he comes at her, he spews all his feelings, demonstrating just how effective his dad has been in convincing him that everything wrong in his life is his mother's fault.

"Commitment! Don't talk to me about commitment, you fucking bitch! You gave up on your marriage because you can't keep a commitment! You don't know anything. You can't do anything right. You're such a fucking baby. Can't even stay to work things out with your own husband, you bitch!"

Bella is all too familiar with this scene. She knows if she can get ahold of his wrists, she'll be able to safely restrain him, but he has quickly accelerated to top-level rage. She gets one of his wrists but her hold isn't right. Before she can adjust it, he reaches across with his other hand, scratching as hard as he can down her forearm. Bright red lines of angry welts rise immediately, darker red seeping through in spots where his nails sank deep enough to draw blood. She hisses at the sting and lets go of his wrist. His newly-freed hand immediately flies up in a left hook, landing fast and hard against her right cheekbone. She gasps at the pain piercing her head as streaks of white race across her vision. Raising her hands up to protect her head, she's able to gain a moment's reprieve. It's enough to allow her to refocus on Alec.

When he comes at her again, her arm shoots out to catch his mid-swing, grasping his wrist securely this time. She pulls him toward her and that force, combined with his forward momentum, allows her to pull him off balance and spin him so his back is to her front. She's able to capture his other wrist and now has his arms crossed in front of him, their hands near his hips. This hold eliminates the use of his arms and limits his movement overall. If they were home, she could force him to the floor and hold him there until he calmed down, but she'd like to avoid doing that in a parking lot. She's grateful that the mental health workers taught her how to do these "non-violent take downs," though they don't always seem aptly named.

The entire altercation has taken barely 30 seconds and occurred mostly within the semi-concealment of her open van door. As usually happens, Alec has a fleeting moment of non-action when she first gets him into a hold. It is enough time for her to hope that no one has seen them and to try to calculate the odds of getting them both home safely. Before she can come to a conclusion, Alec is back into rage-mode. He stomps on her foot while trying to jerk his arms free. When that doesn't work, he tucks his chin to his neck, then throws his head back as hard as he can, his skull connecting with the point of her chin, causing another flash of pain. She's not ready for the second head jerk, and it catches her straight on the mouth. She feels her teeth cut into her lip and is immediately assailed by the tang of blood in her mouth.

She pulls his wrists more tightly into his hips, successfully muting his ability to move for a moment. As she takes advantage of the reprieve to formulate ways to de-escalate the situation, another part of her brain wonders if her lip will swell and if either of the punches were strong enough to leave a bruise. It certainly feels like they might, but she has learned through years of dealing with these behaviors that the human body is remarkable in the amount of trauma it can withstand without leaving any outward evidence.

Alec's calm is briefer than usual, and before she realizes it, he has ducked his head again, but this time his aim is to bite her forearm. His teeth latch on tightly, and she doesn't have to wonder if this move will leave a bruise; bites almost always do, and this is a particularly hard one. Her outrage at being physically abused like this by her own son is something she usually keeps tightly under control. But fits like this, when he's able to really hurt her more than once, can loosen her lock on those emotions. She can feel her own anger, almost a living thing, rattling the bars of its cage as she tears her arm out of his teeth and lets out a harsh frustrated growl.

"Aargh! Stop it, Alec! You have to calm down!" she pleads. Alec, though, is still lost in his anger as he keeps up a random pattern of trying to bite her, stomp on her toes, and head-butt her. The way she shifts her arms, shuffles her feet, and dodges her head to avoid him make them look as if they are in a bizarre type of dance.

Though she is usually hyperaware of their surroundings, especially when out in public, Alec's attack has required all her attention. They are both surprised to hear a man speaking to them from a few feet away, near the back of the van.

"Miss, is everything all right? Can I help you at all?" he asks.

Alec freezes briefly then starts trying to get his hands free again. His demeanor has changed entirely though, and Bella knows he's embarrassed to have been caught in this situation. He looks up at her pleadingly.

"Are you done?" Bella asks him quietly.

"Yes," he hisses before adding a barely audible, "bitch."

In response, Bella tightens her hold on his wrists and pulls his arms down slightly, increasing her restraint on him.

"Ow! I'm sorry, Mom. Let me go!" he whispers, mild contrition seeping into his tone. She releases his hands, and he hurriedly opens the van door, throws an angry glance toward the stranger, and climbs in, quickly closing the door behind him.

Bella takes a deep breath, steeling herself for an unpleasant, judgmental interaction with the stranger. She looks up to face the man and is taken aback by his demeanor. He is unquestionably handsome, with messy bronze hair, intense green eyes, and a strong jawline. What gives Bella pause, though, is his expression. It doesn't hold judgment or disdain for her seemingly abysmal parenting skills. In fact, it is the complete lack of judgment combined with the genuine concern etched in the lines of his furrowed brow that strike her momentarily speechless.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently.

She nods. "Yeah, I'm okay; thank you."

"You, um, have some blood on your lip," he says, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and holding it out to her. He takes a few slow steps forward, acting as if she's a skittish horse ready to bolt.

"Oh!" Wiping her finger across the tender spot on her lip, she pulls it away only to confirm his observation. "I guess I do. Thank you." She accepts his offering and presses the cloth lightly to the cut.

"So, that seemed pretty intense," he says tentatively. "You're sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I will be." She glances over her shoulder and notes that Alec is watching the interaction intently through the van window. She's certain he can hear at least part of the conversation even though the window is closed.

When Bella turns back to meet the man's eyes, his gaze slides slowly to Alec's window then back to her.

"Could I talk to you for a moment over here?" he asks, gesturing to a spot behind her van.

"Sure, of course," she replies, stepping forward quickly and brushing past him to reach the place he suggested. She's had conversations with "helpful" people before and just wants to get it over with. In her experience, these conversations are never actually helpful.

"Look, my son—"

"I don't mean to intrude—"

They talk over each other, then stop, tossing awkward smiles toward one another.

"I'm sorry. Go ahead," he says.

"Right. Um, so my son has some behavior issues . . . clearly. He's seeing someone, and we're helping him learn the skills he needs to better manage his anger. I know this looks bad, and I'm sorry if it was upsetting to you—"

"Upsetting to _me_?" the man interrupts, his tone full of disbelief. "I didn't come over here because _I'm_ upset. I came over because I want to make sure you're okay." He dips his head, coming eye level with Bella, and lowers his voice. "Listen, I saw that he landed some good hits on you. Along with your lip, I see the welts on your arm and what looks to be a bite mark. Frankly, miss, if he was a bit older or any bigger, anyone who saw what happened could rightfully call the police. I don't know what challenges your son has, but I do know there's a name for what I just saw, and that's 'assault'."

The man's gentle demeanor and his frankly spoken truth is nearly Bella's undoing. She looks down at her feet, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears welling in her eyes.

"I'm not here to judge you as a parent," he continues. "Or to judge your son. I'm just here as another human being who wants to make sure you both are safe."

Bella garners the courage to look him in the eye.

"Thank you," she says sincerely. "For your concern and for your willingness to intervene when you thought we might need your help. Not a lot of people would do that."

"It's the only decent thing _to_ do."

"Yeah, well, that's not been my experience. Anyway, thank you. And, yes, I will be okay. Alec seems to have calmed down, too," she says, glancing over her shoulder at him in the van. He's no longer watching them but rather drawing in his sketchpad that he keeps near his seat.

"Okay then. I'd suggest you wash those scratch marks when you get home, and put an antibiotic on the bite, but I'm guessing you know what you're doing when handling those sorts of things."

"Unfortunately, yes, I do. I appreciate the suggestions all the same."

"All right then. Well, good luck and take care."

"We will. Thank you again." Bella ducks her head, then, with a final glance up at the stranger, makes her way around to the driver's door and climbs into the van.

"Who was that man, Mama?" Alec asks in his sweet-boy voice. He's a completely different child now, happily drawing in his book.

"I didn't get his name, buddy," Bella replies, watching the man in her rearview mirror as he makes his way across the parking lot. "He was just a nice man making sure we didn't need anything."

"Oh. I know he saw me being naughty. Do you think he'll tell anyone?"

"No, I don't think he'll tell anyone. Let's get home; we have some things to do this afternoon."


	3. Chapter 2

**Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement** **is intended.**

* * *

The next week, Bella has a rare weekday off from her job at the city library. With Alec at school, she aims to make the most of the day, intentionally ignoring housework and other chores in favor of a little pampering to help recharge. She heads to the corner coffee shop with her favorite book in her bag, intent on giving herself at least an hour of reading and relaxation fueled by the best caffeine in town.

Armed with an extra-large hot coffee, she settles into an oversized armchair in the corner and eagerly opens her book. A brief while later, she's completely lost in Austen's early 19th century world when she becomes aware of someone standing near her at the same time she hears a gentle throat clearing. Giving herself a mental head shake to help bring herself back to the present, she turns her head to the side, noting a pair of leather loafers and dark jeans. Her eyes travel up, cataloging the dark brown belt cinched at a fit waist that is further emphasized by the crisply ironed moss green button-down that is neatly tucked in. Her gaze continues its upward trek, passing the two open buttons at the top of his shirt, over the lightly-stubbled jaw, and locking on some familiar green eyes.

"Hello, I hope I didn't startle you; you seemed pretty absorbed in your reading," the man says.

"Oh, no, you didn't," she replies with a smile.

"I don't mean to intrude, but when I saw you over here, I thought I would just see how you're doing."

"Wow, that's . . . really nice of you. I'm good. Alec and I are both good."

"Good. That's good. I'm glad to hear it."

At a good six feet tall, he's towering over her as she sits in the chair, and her neck is craned uncomfortably back in order to look up at him.

"Why don't you sit down?" she offers, gesturing to the chair across from her.

"Are you sure that's okay? I really don't want to disrupt your visit with Miss Austen," he says with a grin.

"It's a smart man who knows to tread carefully when it comes to a girl's alone time in 19th century England," she smiles back at him. "I'm sure. Please join me."

"In that case, it'll be my pleasure. Thank you." He sits and places his own coffee on the table before leaning forward and extending his hand to her. "I'm Edward Masen, by the way."

"Nice to officially meet you, Edward. I'm Bella Swan," she says, reaching out and shaking his hand.

"So, what brings you here?" she asks, settling back into her chair.

"I'm headed across town for a meeting and left a little early so I could get some decent coffee. The stuff in the office is sludge, and I really needed a pick-me-up before this meeting."

"I see. Late night?"

"More like a very early morning. I had to drive my sister to the airport for an early flight. Though I tried valiantly to convince her that she wouldn't have any delay getting through security if she arrived at 5 a.m. instead of 4 a.m., I failed miserably. So, I've been up since about 2:30 this morning."

"Wow," Bella replies, eyes wide with awe. "Hurry up and finish that cup, then the next one will be on me. I know I would need more than one if I had that kind of morning!"

He grins at her then leans forward conspiratorially. "Well, I did have them add a double shot of espresso."

"Ah. You're good then." She smiles back at him. "So what do you do? You're not dressed for a formal business meeting," she says, giving him a quick up and down glance.

"Actually, I have a couple of jobs. I teach part-time at the college. I'm also a certified financial planner and, when I have free time, I help my family with their real estate business. My mother loves to flip houses. I taught a class this morning and am helping my mom out by meeting with a realtor about a property she's interested in."

"Wow. There's no grass growing under your feet!"

"It's just the way things fell into place. I started out with a financial firm and was fortunate enough to build a loyal clientele that came with me when I decided to hang out my own shingle. Then, the college thing just sort of happened when they wanted to expand their course offerings in the financial market. Since I worked for myself, I had the flexibility to take it on. I really enjoy it; the kids are a hoot most of the time. The real estate stuff is just something I've always helped out with. I like getting my hands dirty on a regular basis."

"I know what you mean. I always enjoyed do-it-yourself projects around the house. No big renovations or anything, but cosmetic stuff like painting, wall papering, even a little tiling when I could. I didn't have much opportunity for it though. My ex didn't have the patience for it. He always wanted to hire a professional, get it done, and make sure it was perfect with as little disruption to his life as possible. I'm different. I always enjoyed the process and learning new things. When I was done, it might not be perfect but it would be good enough, and I could take ownership of it. There was real satisfaction in that, you know?"

"I know exactly what you mean. I think that's why I like to stay so involved. That, plus the fact that swinging a sledge hammer and tearing things apart can be very therapeutic at times!"

"Now that would be my idea of a perfect Saturday afternoon!" She laughs before taking a sip of her coffee.

"You know, extra hands are always needed. You're welcome to come help out sometime if you'd like."

"Ah, thanks, but no. I don't really have a lot of free time."

"I understand," he says before taking a drink of his own coffee. "So, you're really doing okay? Your lip seems fine."

She brings her hand to her mouth, self-consciously rubbing the place where the cut was.

"I'm fine . . . really," she replies. "The bruise from where he bit me is not quite gone but everything else is as good as new. We have an appointment with his counselor tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to bringing several things up with her."

"Good. That's good," he replies, nodding.

"I'd like to thank you again for offering your help that day. I'm used to people giving me judgmental looks and hearing derogatory remarks when Alec has a meltdown. You're the first person who has genuinely wanted to help."

"You don't have to thank me, Bella. You had your hands full and, in my experience, a little kindness goes a long way. Besides, I'm a 'walk a mile in your shoes' kind of guy—not inclined to make snap judgments, especially when I know nothing about the situation."

"Then you'll have to take my word for it when I say your attitude is rare. You should know it's appreciated."

"You don't need to—"

"Edward—" she interrupts, giving him a hard stare "—just shut-up and graciously accept my gratitude."

"Yes, ma'am," he replies with a tip of his head.

"Well, I need to get going for my meeting," he says, pulling out his wallet and placing a card on the table. "Here's my card, just in case you find yourself in need of some demolition therapy one of these days."

"Oh, I don't know—"

"Bella—" he interrupts "—just shut up and graciously accept the card," he says with a wink. "Don't hesitate to call if you get a hankering to get your hands dirty."

"Okay." She picks up the card and taps it against her knee.

"It was nice talking with you, Bella."

"You too. Good luck at your meeting."

"Thanks. See you around," he says, turning and strolling out of the coffee shop.

Bella looks at his card, noting that it lists just his name and a cell number, before sliding it into the pocket of her bag and turning back to her book.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks to my awesome beta, Alice's White Rabbit, and the maker of my beautiful banner, Christine at Christag_Banners.


	4. Chapter 3

**Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement** **is intended.**

A/N: Thanks to my awesome beta, Alice's White Rabbit, and the maker of my beautiful banner, Christine at Christag_Banners.

* * *

 _Friday morning, Two weeks later_

Bella shuts the front door, dropping her purse and keys on the table there before enjoying the last swallow of the iced vanilla latte she splurged on after dropping Alec off at school. She fishes her phone out of her pocket as she goes into the living room and sits on the coach. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath and spends a moment simply enjoying the silence of her home before leaning back into the soft cushions and calling her friend Angela. She picks up after just one ring, and Bella can tell she's talking through her Bluetooth from the car.

"Hi, Bells! How's it going today?" Angela asks.

"I think I'm an awful mother," Bella starts right in with a groan.

"Stop! You know you're not. Why would you say that?"

"It's been a really rough week with Alec. His behavior has been off the charts every day. Now he's not sleeping. I guess I'm just exhausted."

"Sleep deprivation doesn't make you an awful mother, Bells."

"I know. I'm just feeling so relieved that Alec is going to be at his dad's this weekend, and I feel guilty about it. Mike isn't the greatest influence, and he maligns me to Alec, but I'm still grateful for the break. So I'm conflicted about that. I don't know, it's such a mess."

"Well, after all this time, you know I think you're still too kind to Mike. He's a grade-A asshole, but he has visitation rights, so there's nothing you can do about that part."

"I know. And I don't want to. I want Alec to have a healthy relationship with his dad; I just don't know if that's possible."

"Right, so you need to focus on what you can influence. Taking care of yourself is a key part of that so you're able to provide Alec with the strength and stability he needs when he's with you."

"Yeah, you're right. I know your right about that."

"I'm really glad you took today off so you can have a long weekend to rest and relax."

"Me too," Bella says, resting her head back on the couch and closing her eyes.

"You know what I think you should do?"

"What?"

"First, go lie down and take a serious nap. Don't set your alarm, put your phone on silent, and sleep until you wake up."

"That sounds like heaven."

"Then, call that Edward guy and take him up on his offer for some renovation therapy or whatever the heck he called it. It'll be good to stop thinking about all this stuff for a while and do something with your hands. Since you refuse to do crafts with me—"

"I'm never going to learn how to crochet, Ang; give it up," Bella interrupts with a laugh.

"You know it's not just crocheting, but whatever. Just call him. Go hit things with a hammer. Imagine Mike's face on the nail. Or another part of his anatomy—whatever works for you."

Bella snorts out a laugh. "Does Ben know how diabolical you can be? I have to warn him never to piss you off."

"Oh, he knows, Bella. He knows," she says in a sinister tone.

"Man, there is a story there I don't want to hear! Well, maybe I want to hear it. After a few drinks."

"Deal!" Angela says, back to her usual chipper tone. "Now, go. Sleep. Call. Demolish. Tell me all about it next week."

"Yes, sir! I have my marching orders, sir!"

"Bye, sweetie. Take care."

"Thanks, Ang. You too."

Bella disconnects the call and goes into the bedroom. Pulling off her jeans and tugging her T-shirt over her head, she slips into bed, sighing at the coolness of the sheets against her skin. She allows the softness of the pillow, the comfort of her mattress, and the weight of her exhaustion to drag her into dreamless sleep.

Hours later, Bella awakes. She's not sure what time it is but the sun is shining brightly around the edges of her closed drapes. Stretching, she basks in the luxury of a weekday nap for a moment longer before reaching for her phone to check the time.

"Nearly one o'clock! Wow, I slept almost four hours. That's the longest stretch of sleep I've had all week!"

She disengages the phone's airplane mode and turns the volume back on. Moments later the phone chirps with two text alerts. Bella chuckles, seeing they are both from Angela.

 _Don't forget to eat—you're doing that too often lately. Then CALL DEMO-DUDE (I know you're already trying to talk yourself out of it. I'll kick your ass if you do.) Hugs!_

 _You better not be getting this message while you're napping since your phone is supposed to be OFF._ _XXOO_

"She missed her calling; she really would make an outstanding drill sergeant," Bella muses. At that moment, her stomach growls. "And she's apparently omniscient. Food it is."

She puts her jeans and T-shirt back on then pads barefoot into the kitchen, gathering her hair into a knot on top of her head. She gathers ingredients for an omelet and starts chopping and sautéing vegetables. The kitchen soon fills with delicious savory scents.

Before long she's plating her omelet next to a serving of pan fried potatoes. Sitting at the table with a fresh cup of coffee, she settles down to enjoy her meal. She pulls her phone from her pocket, intent on checking the daily news feed. Activating the phone's screen, she sees that Angela's last texts are still open. She stares at them for a moment.

"'Demo-dude'—what a nerd," she scoffs and thinks for a moment. "Fine!" she exclaims to the phone with an eye roll. "I'll call him!"

She retrieves her bag and digs the card out of the pocket. Reading it again, she wonders why he didn't include any other information on the card. She decides there's far too much blank space on it and pulls a pen from her bag. Carefully, she inscribes the words "Demo-Dude" directly below his name.

Regarding her handy work, she laughs and quickly dials his number. If she thinks about it too much, her nerves will get the better of her.

It rings a few times, and she's convinced it's about to roll over into voicemail. She's distracted, trying to compose a clear but short message to leave, when his voice is in her ear.

"Hello," he says. She waits, expecting his voice to continue with a standard message greeting, but it doesn't come.

"Hello?" he says again, and she realizes she didn't get his voicemail; she got him.

"Oh, hi! Hi, Edward. I'm sorry, I thought I had your voicemail. This is Bella. Bella Swan."

"Well, hello, Bella-Bella Swan. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Is this a bad time? I'm not taking you away from anything, am I?"

"No. This is a great time. I just finished up with a client."

"Oh, you're in the office. I'm sorry. I don't want to interrupt your work. We can talk another time."

"Bella, you're not interrupting anything. If I couldn't take the call, I wouldn't have answered. I'm glad to hear from you. What's up? Is everything okay with you and Alec?"

"Yeah, we're okay. But, uh, it's been kind of a rough week. He's with his dad this weekend." She pauses, glancing at his card that she's been nervously flipping end over end since he answered her call. She reads the title she's written in and takes a deep breath. "In fact, that's kind of why I was calling."

"Really? What can I do?" he offers.

"I was wondering if I there was anything I could help demolish this weekend?"

He laughs, and it's rich and full and genuine. "Oh, man, could we ever use some extra hands on our current project!" he replies. "When do you want to start?"

"I took the day off, so my weekend is clear. I'm available anytime, but I don't want to take you away from your work."

"Don't worry about that. I just finished my last call and was preparing to leave the office for the day. Is this your cell you're calling from? I can text you the address. I'll be there in about 30 minutes, and you can show up whenever. What do you say?"

"You're sure it's not an imposition? I don't want to be in anyone's way or slow you down at all."

"Bella, there's one thing you should know about me, and that is I mean what I say. I don't make offers I don't want to fulfill. I don't make promises I can't keep. I'd like to think my word is worth something."

"Wow. Okay. Umm, yeah, this is my cell. Go ahead and text me the address, and I'll meet you there."

"Great. You'll get to meet some of my family, and I think my brother has some friends coming over later to help out too."

"Okay. Well, thank you. I appreciate it."

"It's no problem. I'll text you the details as soon as we hang up."

"Sounds good. See you soon."

"I'm looking forward to it. Bye, Bella."

"Bye, Edward."

She hangs up and, good to his word, a text comes through a few moments later with the address of their current renovation site—a house in a subdivision across town.

Bella finishes her omelet and takes a few minutes to clean up the kitchen before going into her bedroom. She grabs a long-sleeved button-down that can be pulled on over her T-shirt if the work requires that added protection. In the front hall, she pulls on an old pair of work boots from the closet and steps into them. Throwing her purse over her shoulder, she heads out to her car.


	5. Chapter 4

Thanks to my awesome beta, Alice's White Rabbit, and the maker of my beautiful banner, Christine at Christag_Banners.

 **Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement** **is intended** **.**

* * *

With the address keyed into her GPS, Bella finds the location easily and is pulling into the driveway of a modest ranch home on a cul-de-sac just 45 minutes after saying goodbye to Edward. There are several cars already parked there including a huge tricked-out Jeep, a champagne-colored Mercedes, a shiny silver pick-up truck, and a sporty Audi convertible. She parks her soccer-mom van and chuckles to herself, thinking that her van looks perfectly at home in the neighborhood but highly out of place in this particular driveway.

As she goes up the walkway toward the front door, she looks over the house. It's a little dated, and the gardens are overgrown, but there doesn't seem to be anything obviously wrong with it. She's curious about the type of renovations Edward's mother plans to undertake, but mostly, she's excited to work out her frustrations from the past week.

She rings the doorbell and waits. From inside, she can hear vague sounds of activity. It seems like someone has music playing, and there are hammering noises. Intermittently, voices are raised to be heard over the noise, but she can't make out the words. Clearly, no one is going to hear the doorbell over that racket.

She knocks loudly as she slowly opens the door.

"Hello?" she calls out, stepping into the gloomy entryway that is lit only by the tall narrow window beside the door. She faces the interior of the house. The living area is directly to her left, and the noise is coming from her right where she assumes the bedrooms are located.

"Hello?" she calls again, turning to her right and directing her voice toward the noise.

"Hello there," says a woman approaching from behind Bella.

"Oh!" Bella exclaims, whirling around to face the woman.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," the woman says. "You must be Edward's friend."

"Yes, I'm Bella Swan," she says, extending her hand.

"Bella, I'm Esme, Edward's mother," she replies, grasping Bella's hand and shaking it in greeting. "I'm so glad you could help us out today."

"Well, I was grateful for the invitation. I don't have any particular skills, but I'm a quick learner. I just hope I'm not in anyone's way."

"Gracious, I'm sure Edward explained that extra hands are always welcome. No experience is necessary." Esme smiles warmly at her, and Bella can't help but return the smile.

"Edward arrived just a little bit ago, and his brother put him right to work getting some larger pieces of debris from the bedroom out to the dumpster. Go on back and let him know you're here; there's plenty to be done. Oh, and here, better put these on," she says, handing Bella a pair of safety glasses she pulls from her back pocket. "You never know what might be flying around when the boys are tearing things apart. If you need gloves or anything else, Edward can get it for you."

"All right. Thank you, Esme."

"No, I should be thanking you for the free labor!" Esme teases. "Have fun and be safe!"

Bella nods at her and starts down the hallway toward the noise, sliding the glasses on as she goes. Reaching the doorway to what must have been the master bedroom, she pauses to take in the sight. There is a huge gaping opening in the wall through which she can see the entire back yard.

A man, tall and lanky with his wavy blond hair covered by a kerchief, is busy framing in the opening, one hand bracing a two-by-four and the other rhythmically swinging a hammer. Before she can say anything, two men appear in the opening, casually walking up the makeshift ramp that runs from the opening down to the lawn. The sun is behind them so, through a trick of the light, there's a moment when she only sees them in silhouette. But then they progress farther into the room, and she can clearly see that one of the men is Edward.

He spots her immediately and a wide grin splits his face. With his long legs, he's in front of her in four quick steps.

"Bella, you're here! Hi."

"Hi, Edward. Yeah, I used my GPS and didn't have any trouble finding it."

"Good, I'm really glad you asked to come out. There's plenty of demolition therapy available here."

"Hey, bro, is this your _girlfriend?_ " asks the man who walked in with Edward, using a juvenile sing-song voice. He's a giant of a man who strides across the room and casually slings his arm over Edward's shoulder. Edward's a bit over six feet tall, but this man is taller yet with a body builder's physique. She imagines he could easily intimidate anyone if he chooses, but the dimples currently framing his grin and the twinkle in his eyes give off a boyish vibe.

"Oh, my God, you're _huge!_ " she blurts out. She immediately claps her hand over her mouth, and her eyes go wide in embarrassment, but the giant just guffaws.

"That's what Rosie says!" he replies.

"Emmett, don't be crass," Edward chastises.

"What? She does, that's not my fault. And I like this one, Eddie, she a keeper," he declares with a nod toward Bella.

"Bella, this ape is my brother, Emmett. Emmett, Bella."

"Sorry for my outburst," Bella says sheepishly. "It's just, yeah, they don't grow 'em like you where I come from."

"No worries, Bella. It's a pleasure to meet you," Emmett says, extending his hand.

"Thanks; you too," she replies as her hand disappears in his. His handshake is firm but deceptively gentle for someone so big. He clearly is aware of his own strength.

"That's Jasper, my sister's boyfriend," Edward says, pointing a thumb at the blond man working at the opening in the wall.

"Hello, Bella. I'd shake your hand if either of those oafs were polite enough to help me out here."

"Ah, don't get your panties in a twist, Jazz; you're fine," Emmett says, dismissing him and turning his attention to the project. Bella waves to Jasper in response to his greeting, and he gives her an eyebrow waggle in return before resuming his work.

"Ed, I think it makes the most sense to move on to demo-ing that interior wall," he says, pointing. "That will open this up to the dining room on the other side. That wall's not load-bearing, so once the drywall is clear, we can pull the wiring and remove the studs. After that, we'll work on the wall where the doorway is."

"Sounds good. I might even help you if you stop calling me Ed and Eddie," Edward says, fixing Emmett with a stare.

"Fine, _Edward Anthony,_ now get to work. Bella, drywall's easy to take down. You can hammer it, grab a crow bar, whatever you like."

"Unfortunately, I'm pretty familiar with how easy it is to put a hole in a wall. Maybe I'll throw a couple punches or a roundhouse kick," she says with a smile.

"Badass!" Emmett exclaims with a grin. "Whatever works for you; we don't care what it looks like."

"Come with me and I'll get you some gloves and anything else you need," Edward says, ushering Bella out of the room.

He stops and bends over a crate located just down the hall. After rifling through it for a moment, he hands her some gloves. "Here's an extra pair of Esme's; they should fit you pretty well."

"Thanks. So, what all are you going to do with this place?" she asks. "It looks to be in pretty good shape to me."

"Oh, it is. It's structurally sound, and the location is great. You know that old saying about real estate: only three things matter—location, location, and location?"

She smiles. "Yes, I've heard that."

"Well, the location is what interested Esme. This area is experiencing some rejuvenation, and she believes residential values are going to rise significantly. The bones of this house are sound, but it's small and really dated. The more she looked at it the more she decided to take on a major renovation and expansion. She's actually going to put a second floor on it."

"Really? Wow, that seems ambitious."

"It is, a bit. It's certainly beyond what we can do ourselves. She wants to create a more open floor plan on the first floor since the bedrooms will move upstairs. So, we're doing as much of that as we can. She'll bring in a construction crew to put on the addition. Once the exterior is done and the roof is on, we'll be able to take care of the rest of it."

"Still, it seems like a huge project to me. Then again, I've never done more than a cosmetic makeover on one room at a time."

"Well, it is a marathon, not a sprint. And we all work together, so that makes it fun. I see that Esme already gave you safety goggles. Here's a mask for the dust," he says, handing it to her and standing up to give her a once over. "Tools are in the room where we're working. What else?" he muses. "Oh, I know. Stay here, I'll be right back." He dashes down the hall toward the living room and is back a moment later.

"Here," he says, handing her a baseball cap. "I had an extra in my bag. It'll help keep at least some of the mess out of your hair."

"Oh, I didn't even think about that. Thanks." She takes a moment, putting the cap on her head and pulling her hair through the hole in the back. When she's done tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ears, she looks up to find Edward staring at her.

"What?" she asks.

"Oh, um, nothing," he says, clearing his throat. "You look cute in that hat is all."

"Yep, it's the height of fashion," she snorts. "You really don't have any fashion sense, do you?"

"No. And, were my sister here, she would heartily concur. That doesn't mean you don't look cute though."

"Riiight. Well, come on, Dior, there's a wall to knock down."

Back in the work room, Bella pulls on the gloves and slides the mask over her nose and mouth before putting her safety glasses back on and grabbing a hammer off the bench.

"Anywhere on this wall?" she asks Edward.

"It's all gotta come down," he nods. "You can start your therapy whenever you're ready."

She lets out a hearty laugh and eyes the wall. Deciding to start right in the middle, she pulls the hammer back and swings hard. The hammer head goes through the wall, and she has to jerk it free, leaving an even larger hole. She swings four more times, making a wide array of holes in the middle of the wall. Just then, Emmett walks by.

"What happened to the roundhouse kicks?" he teases her.

Bella looks at him and, though her mouth is hidden by the mask, her eyes crinkle with her smile, and she holds up a finger in a "just a second" motion. Placing the hammer on the floor, she lines herself up with the weakened area of the wall. Left foot forward, she brings her arms up into a fighting stance and bounces slightly on her feet. Then, in the blink of an eye, she kicks her right foot forward, connecting to the wall with a loud "crunch" at the same moment she lets loose a forceful "hah!" A giant area of drywall crumbles to the floor as she resumes her fighting stance.

An admiring whistle cuts through the air coming from Jasper, who's leaning casually against the wall. Edward is staring at Bella, who takes in a deep breath and turns to face him. His mask is hanging around his neck so the slow smile spreading across his face is on full display for her.

"Damn, girl, you're hired!" Emmett says. "We pay in pizza and beer; I hope that's okay. Eddie, you can stay or go; either way, we've got your work covered with Bella here."

"Ha, ha. And it's Edward, asshole," Edward replies.

"Yeah, yeah," he says. "Hey, Jazz, if you're done there, you can help me start pulling out the fixtures in the bathroom. Seems like these two have this demo work handled."

"Sure thing," Jasper says, following Emmett out of the room.

"So, how did that feel?" Edward asks her.

"Best therapy ever!" she answers, a smile in her voice.

"Well, that's a good thing. Let's keep it up," he says, positioning the mask over his mouth and moving to the end of the wall.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Holy Smokes folks! You all are legit amazing. Thank you so much for reading and, especially, for taking the time to review. Because I've got so much love for you all, I'm updating early. And it's a long one! (I may even go ahead and update again tomorrow.) Let's learn more about Bella and Alec, shall we?**

 **As always, thanks to my amazing beta, Alice's White Rabbit, and to the maker of my beautiful banner, Christine at Christag_Banners.**

 **Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement** **is intended** **.**

* * *

Edward and Bella spend the next couple of hours working together, tearing down all the drywall and pulling out insulation. Each time the mess gets too big to work around, they shovel the pieces into a wheelbarrow and cart it through the hole in the wall to the dumpster in the yard. Edward explains that the opening in the wall will eventually house a set of French doors that will open onto a deck.

When Jasper returns, he's able to start pulling out the electric wiring.

"Why don't you two take a break?" he suggests. "Get some water and find a spot where you can breathe some clear air."

"Good idea," Edward says, and Bella nods in agreement, using her sleeve to wipe the sweat from her forehead.

"Follow me; there are drinks in the kitchen fridge," Edward says as they exit the room, Bella sliding her mask off to hang around her neck while Edward pulls his off over his head.

"Wow! That really kicks up an amazing amount of drywall dust. I'm glad we aren't dealing with lathe and plaster!" she laughs.

"Aargh," he groans. "Esme has an affinity for older homes, and we often run into that stuff. It's really a nightmare!" he agrees.

In the kitchen, he reaches into the fridge and grabs some bottled waters, handing one to Bella. They both spend a moment taking in some much needed hydration before Edward points to one of the folding chairs positioned around a table fashioned out of a piece of plywood balanced across some saw horses.

"Have a seat," he offers.

"Thanks," she replies, easing down into the chair while Edward sits across from her.

"So, are you still glad you came? Is it still effective therapy, or have we moved into the slave labor category?" he asks with an amused smile.

"Definitely glad I came," she says, returning his smile. "And definitely the most effective therapy session I've had in a while. Plus, Emmett mentioned something about pizza and beer, and it can't be slave labor if I'm getting paid, so . . ."

"Good. I'm glad you're finding it a good use of your time." He leans forward, placing his forearms on the table and begins spinning the bottle cap. "Do you mind if I ask you something?" he asks, studiously watching the cap spin.

"Um, sure," she replies, curious at his lack of eye contact.

"What exactly is going on with Alec? I mean, tell me to mind my own business if you don't want to talk about it, but I admit I'm curious."

She watches him for a moment, and he slowly lifts his gaze to meet hers. She can't name everything she sees there, but it's more than just voyeurism that feeds gossip. Along with whatever else is there, she does recognize genuine care and concern. It's enough. Enough to allow her to lower her guard a bit.

"It's complicated," she begins.

"I'm sure it must be." His head bobs slightly in acknowledgment.

Her fingers find a figure eight pattern among the grain in the wood slab table and begin to follow it repeatedly.

"Well, the short answer is I don't know. We don't actually have a diagnosis. He's always had a temper, even as a baby. But, while other children learn ways to manage their anger and 'grow out of' their temper tantrum phase, Alec never did. His anger has gotten worse, and his rages have become more violent."

"What does his dad say about it?"

Bella snorts a humorless laugh. "That's a very unproductive line of questioning."

"Oh! Sorry. If it's something you don't want to talk about, I understand."

"No, it's not that. It's just that question literally leads nowhere that is helpful. Mike simply thinks it's all my fault."

"What! That seems a bit extreme."

"You think? Well, Mike is very controlling, and he always had a bit of a temper himself. It only came out in little ways when we were first married. You know, subtly letting me know he didn't approve of how I was dressed or things I said to people. Or, not so subtly making it clear that he didn't approve of my friends."

"Sounds like an asshole," Edward offers.

"Oh, I have an entire list of adjectives that work for him! I pull them out when he does something particularly annoying. Otherwise, though, I try not to dwell on them. I want Alec to have a healthy and positive relationship with his dad, you know? I realize that constantly characterizing Mike as a jerk in my head can make it hard for me to support that."

"That makes sense. Sounds very healthy too."

"Well, trust me, I have my moments when I need to vent, but I do try to isolate those. Anyway, Mike's behavior got worse after Alec was born, and especially as he got a little older. Little kids like to explore and assert their independence, right? They also don't have the reasoning ability of an adult. They're learning and everything they do during the day is a chance to teach them something about the world around them. Mike didn't do well with that."

"What would happen?"

"Well, he had no patience for bad behavior. If Alec was naughty, his discipline was way over the top. I used to euphemistically refer to it as 'aggressive discipline,' but now I know it was simply abusive. Little infractions would get Alec yelled at. And I mean red-faced, top volume, nose-to-nose with spittle flying yelling. Here's Mike, this six-foot tall guy—supposedly an adult—totally losing it over a three-year-old throwing a toy. Then after, or sometimes during, the yelling, there would be a spanking. A pretty hard spanking where I really think Mike wasn't aware how hard or even how many times he was spanking Alec. After that, there would be some absurd consequence, like not being allowed to play with any toys the rest of the week."

"Sounds like the guy was out of control."

"Yeah. I used to think it was contrary to his controlling nature, but then I realized it happened when things around him were out of his control. He just didn't know how to handle that. Anyway, I only had to see that happen once to know I had to do my best to prevent it from happening again. Poor Alec really does have a soft heart, and when he was little, his daddy truly was his hero. I saw how those incidents wounded his spirit, and it broke my heart. So, I tried to walk this imaginary line where I wasn't undermining Mike with Alec. I mean, that's Parenting 101, right? Don't undermine the other parent? Anyway, I would try not to undermine him but also keep him from really doing harm to Alec. Turns out, it's impossible to tread an imaginary line."

"You sure were in a tough spot. Did Mike ever get physical with you?"

"No, he didn't. He was emotionally and verbally abusive to both of us, but it never got physical with me. And it took several years before it got physical with Alec, but that's even worse. I wish he had directed that toward me instead of an innocent, defenseless child."

"What happened?"

"Well, Alec learned very quickly to behave extremely well when his dad was around. He knew Mike's responses to things were unpredictable and often harsh. He would be a normal kid around me—curious and busy all the time. He would argue and be stubborn. Sometimes, whatever it is going on in his head that makes it hard for him to manage his feelings would get the better of him. He would have a meltdown or get violent. It's funny to talk about that in terms of a four- or five-year-old, but it's true. He wasn't necessarily wanting to cause damage, but he could whip a sippy cup and leave a dent in the wall. Or he could throw his head back and hit me just right to give me a bloody nose."

"What would Mike do when things like that happened?"

"Well, I wanted him to know about Alec's behavior because I felt it wasn't normal. I thought he might need some professional help, and I wanted Mike's support. At the same time, I was often afraid what Mike's reaction would be, so, one of two things would happen. If something was damaged that I could fix – like a ding in a wall - I would hurry to do that before Mike got home because I couldn't trust that his reaction wouldn't be over the top or dangerous. Other times, like if I had a bloody nose or if something was damaged that I couldn't fix, I would tell Mike what happened. Invariably, he would ask me what I did to trigger the incident. In his mind, since Alec was almost always well-behaved around him, I must be the variable that caused the trouble."

"That is messed up."

"It really was. Now, in hindsight, I see how I didn't always handle things well, but I made the best decisions I could at the time. Things continued to get worse. I found out that Mike was using a belt to spank Alec, and I was outraged."

"I can see how that would be upsetting if you two didn't hold the same opinion on that sort of discipline. Carlisle, my dad, tells how his father used to make him go and pick out his own switch for his dad to use to spank him. He said it was tricky because he didn't want one that was too green and flexible because that would work like a whip and hurt more than a stiffer branch. At the same time, if it wasn't soft enough his father would pick one out himself, and that was guaranteed to be the type that would hurt the most."

Bella blows out a deep breath.

"Hmm," she hums. "I know that type of discipline is common in many places. Personally, I'm not opposed to spanking. I do think it should be saved for dangerous situations. Like 'I told you not to run into the road and you did it anyway.' I mean, a kid might not have a second chance to learn that lesson."

She pauses, scenes flashing through her mind of times when Mike would discipline Alec.

"Even then, though, it's the grown up's job to deliver that spanking rationally. Mike only ever spanked when he was mad. He wasn't reasonably doling out discipline, he was taking out his anger, and that's not okay. That's when I would intervene—when he would spank too hard or too many times. Sometimes, he would be saying horrible things to Alec while he spanked him. Telling him he's stupid or sneaky, even cursing at him sometimes. More than once, I stepped in when that happened, and Mike would get mad at me, asking me why I was 'undermining' him. When I would tell him it wasn't appropriate for him to say those sorts of things to Alec, he wouldn't even remember what he'd said. Or sometimes, Alec would squirm around and flip onto his back, getting a spank on his belly instead of his butt. Mike wouldn't even be aware of it. That sort of stuff was really scary to me. I know those words and having his daddy mad at him hurt Alec just as much as spanking.

"That's what terrified me when I learned that Mike sometimes used a belt on him. He never did it when I was around, but Alec said something about it to me one day. I immediately confronted Mike, telling him I didn't know that was where we were with our parenting. He just tried to justify it. He actually said 'If Alec didn't misbehave, I wouldn't have to use the belt!' I was so mad I couldn't see straight. I told him he had to be a parent and make the right decisions for Alec regardless of how mad he was in the moment. He tried to argue some more, but I just told him he was not to use the belt again, and I would intervene if he ever tried to again."

"So did he? Try to use the belt again?"

She let out a humorless chuckle. "Yes, he did. Alec back-talked him. Something we both agree is not okay for our kid to do. So, send him to time out or take away his electronics, right? It doesn't deserve a whipping. Anyway, Mike told Alec he was going to get a spanking, and he started unbuckling his belt. I told Mike he was not using a belt on Alec, so he started cursing at me. I started to take Alec into another room so Mike could cool down, but Mike wasn't having it. He followed us, yelling the whole time. So I detoured into the bathroom and locked us in. Mike was pissed, yelling and pounding on the door. I told him he needed to calm down before we would come out and suggested he take a drive or something. A few minutes later, after yelling some very unsavory things at me, that's what he did.

"Alec was freaked out because we were 'hiding' from his dad. I had to explain to him that when he does something wrong, he needs to be corrected and sometimes that means discipline, but what his dad does is not okay."

"Is that when you guys split up?"

"Actually, no. I thought the physical stuff had been dealt with. Mike came home that day and apologized, even agreed he wouldn't use the belt again. I told him—not for the first time—that he also needed to rein in his language and the way he talked to Alec. He wasn't as agreeable on that point, but I saw a real change in how he didn't get physical when he was mad. At least he didn't . . . until he did."

"Uh oh. What happened?"

"It was a few weeks later. Mike was working with Alec on his homework and everything was going fine until it came time to do his reading. It's not Alec's favorite thing and doing the required 15 minutes every night can be a challenge. That's what happened this one evening. Alec was being really stubborn about it, and Mike lost his cool. He dragged Alec into our bedroom, which was right next to Alec's study nook. I was folding some laundry down the hall when I heard the commotion and rushed toward the room. Just as I entered, I saw Mike wrap his hands around Alec's neck, pick him up by the neck, and throw him on the bed. Mike was right on top of him yelling, and he didn't even remove his hands right away. I was there, trying to pull him off Alec, when Mike suddenly got up and stormed out of the room. Alec was a sobbing mess, clinging to me, telling me how very scared he was and that he . . ."

She pauses, bringing her hand to her forehead and blinking back the tears pricking her eyes. Edward leans forward, gently squeezing her other hand that's resting on the table. She sniffles before raising her eyes to his and continuing.

"Alec told me that in that moment, he was scared he . . . that he . . . was going to die. He was seven-years-old! That's when things ended. I packed us each a bag, and we were gone to my dad's before Mike got home."

"Bella, I, well I just can't imagine how awful that must have been for Alec and for you."

Right then, Emmett walks in. "Okay, kiddos, break's over . . ." He skids to a halt and stops mid-sentence as he notices Bella's red-rimmed eyes and Edward grasping her hand. "You okay, Bella?" he asks with concern.

Edward gives her hand another squeeze before releasing it and leaning back in his chair.

"Yeah," she says with a sniff. "I was just telling Edward about a rough time that my son and I had a while back. I'm fine."

"Oh. Edward said you had a son. What's his name?"

"Alec," she replies with a smile.

"That's right! How old is he?"

"He's eleven. Well, eleven and a half as he would be quick to point out if he were here."

"That's a great age. In fact, you should bring him here next time you come." He pauses, giving her a quizzical look. "You do know you're coming back right? I mean, you don't really have a choice; I've already ordered extra pizza and beer just for you so you've officially been hired," he rambles earnestly.

"I'd love to come back, Emmett," she says, laughing. "I've really enjoyed this today."

"Good. But, seriously, bring him with you if you can. We've got a lot more to do before the big machinery comes in so the site itself isn't really a construction zone yet. There's a lot he could do. You know, if he's into that kind of thing."

"Well, he can sometimes be a handful," she glances at Edward then back at Emmett. "But, I'm sure you could keep him in line. As long as you guys don't mind. He'll be asking a million questions and wanting to try everything."

"Ah, we were all boys once; that's fine," he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "We've got patience, and I love it when a kid is interested in what's going on around them. It won't be a problem."

"I'm sure he'd love to come. He's with his dad this weekend, so it will have to be another time."

"Whenever it works for you will be great. Well, my buddies Sam and Jake are on their way. They said they'd pull up the carpeting in the living room and other bedrooms, then start pulling up the hardwood from the dining room floor. They should be able to get quite a bit done before we break for dinner around seven. Bella, we're going to hang out for a while after that. I figure it's our duty to make sure that fire pit in the back yard is in good working order," he says with a wink. "I hope you'll stay."

"Emmett, don't press her. She was nice enough to come work with us this afternoon; maybe she'll want to go home at some point," Edward says.

"I know, Eddie, I know. I just want her to know she's welcome to stay and hang with us."

"Thanks, Emmett. I'll probably stay for a little bit," she says.

"Hi, everyone. How are things going?" Esme asks as she breezes into the room.

"Great, Ma. We're even a little ahead of schedule thanks to the extra help Bella's given us today," Emmett answers.

"Oh, that's wonderful! Bella, I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help," she says, sending a smile her way. "I've just spent the last hour and half walking around the property with the landscaper, and I think we have an excellent plan for the outside once the addition is up."

"That's good news. I know you were concerned about working in all the features you want," Edward says.

"That's true, but Alistair must be a magician because his plan is genius! I'm going to head home now and share the plan layout with Carlisle this evening. You all work safe, and I'll see you back here tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure thing," Edward says, standing to give her a brief hug.

"We'll be here with bells on." Emmett laughs, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"I just said goodbye to Jasper. He's almost done removing the electric from the master bedroom."

"Okay, we can move on to the studs, then. See you, Ma," Emmett says as he leaves the room.

"Thank you again, Bella. Don't let these guys get too bossy with you. They like to pretend they're alpha males, but I know better," Esme says with a wink.

"Hey!" Edward interjects.

"Hush you," Esme replies. "The stories I could tell . . ."

"Maybe you should tell some tomorrow, Esme," Bella suggests.

"Oh, I like that idea!" she replies with a calculating smirk.

"Go! Move on; get out of here!" Edward teases, ushering her toward the doorway.

"Bye, Esme," Bella calls.

"Goodbye, Bella!" she replies, leaving the room.

Turning back toward Bella, Edward regards her for a moment. She returns his look with a relaxed smile.

"What?" she asks.

"I'm sorry we were interrupted," he says sincerely.

"Eh, it was getting pretty heavy. It was probably a good time to take a break."

"Probably. I'd still like to hear the rest of your story though . . . when the time is right."

"I don't usually like to burden people with the drama that is my life—"

"It's no burden, Bella. I'm interested. Concerned fellow human here, remember?"

She cracks a small smile. "I remember. And I'm honest enough to admit that it felt good to talk about it with you."

"Good. Just know you can talk to me whenever you'd like. I'm here for you."

"Thanks, Edward, that means a lot to me. It's been a really long time since someone offered me that sort of . . . unconditional, non-judgmental support."

"Whenever you need it," he says. "Now we better get back in there before Emmett starts bellowing for us."

"Yeah, I want to earn that beer!"

They go back into the work area and start demolishing another wall. They aren't working long when Emmett's friends Sam and Jake show up. They bring a DJ-worthy boom box and promptly set it up, blaring classic rock music before starting to rip up carpets.

Near seven that evening, Emmett calls a halt to all the work, and everyone is pleased with the amount of progress they've made. While Jasper orders the pizza, everyone else heads out to the back yard, collecting burnable wood from the scrap pile, and Edward starts a fire in the fire pit. A mish-mashed collection of folding chairs and old patio furniture left behind by the home's previous owners is arranged around the fire. Emmett greedily soaks up the accolades when he breaks out the case of beer that had been chilling in the refrigerator.

It is a relaxed group that jokes and laughs easily with one another as they dig in to the pizzas when they arrive. It doesn't take long before Sam and Jake realize they've potentially crossed paths with Bella before.

"Wait, so you've been to La Push?" Jake asks incredulously.

"Sure have," Bella replies. "I spent many a day down at First Beach during high school. I still get back there occasionally when I go to Forks to visit my dad."

"I can't believe this!" Sam exclaims. "I have family down there—some aunts and uncles, a boatload of cousins. Jake and I get out there at least every couple weeks. I bet we've been at the beach at the same time as you."

"That could very well be," she replies. "Were you ever part of that crazy crew that would go cliff diving?"

Jake and Sam laugh, hooting and hollering in their excitement while talking over each other.

"Yeah, man, the first time I ever did that, what a rush!" Jake says, face lit up like Christmas.

"Scared the crap out of me, but after I did it that first time, I couldn't get enough," Sam shares. "Did you ever try it, Bella?"

Her eyes grow big in disbelief, and she frantically shakes her head from side to side. "That would be a big fat 'hell no'!" she says with a laugh. "My dad would have grounded me for life. Plus, I'm not great with heights, so definitely no."

"Cliff diving? Really, man?" Emmett asks in awe. "You've got to take me with you next time so I can try that."

Just then, Bella's phone vibrates in her pocket. Taking it out, she sees it's a call from Mike. "Excuse me, I have to take this," she says, getting up and walking into the house where the voices and music are muted.

Edward watches her go, paying only minimal attention to the conversation flowing around him.

"Bella worked really hard today," Jasper comments from beside him. Edward turns to face him, nodding his head.

"She really did. I think she enjoyed it though. She was looking for the chance to take out some frustration, and I hope today's project gave her that opportunity."

"Good. That's good," Jasper muses. "She seems to have the weight of the world on her shoulders."

"She's got a tough road right now, that's for sure," Edward agrees. He stands, seeing Bella coming back toward them, walking purposefully.

"I'm afraid I have to get going," she says to Edward.

"Everything okay?" he asks.

"Yes. It's just that Mike 'had something come up'," she says, using air quotes. "He needs Alec to stay with me tonight and said he'll pick him up around one tomorrow."

"Oh," he says, sounding let down.

"I'm sorry. I've been having a great time and would love to stay longer."

"No, you've got to be there for Alec. Does Mike change his plans like this a lot?"

She rolls her eyes in reply. "Please, I don't want to ruin what has been a very pleasant evening by taking on that subject right now."

"Ah. Gotcha," Edward replies, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

"Are you leaving so soon, Dusty?" Emmett asks from across the fire, using the nickname he's granted her because she'd been covered in drywall dust all day.

"I'm afraid I have to. Change in plans; my son is coming home tonight and spending the morning with me. Sorry, that means I won't be able to come back tomorrow until about two."

"Nah, that's okay. You're our lead crew member now, you get flexibility," he says with a huge grin. "You could bring Alec along with you in the morning if you'd like. I told you he could work with any of us. He'll have a blast."

"Well, let me see how he's doing in the morning. I never really know how he's going to be after spending some time with his dad. I'll text Edward and let you know either way."

"Okay, Dusty, thanks for your help today. Drive safe."

"I'll walk you to your car," Edward says and a chorus of goodnights follows them as they make their way across the yard.

"I hope Alec's doing okay tonight," he comments as they approach Bella's van.

"I think he will be since it's really just his bedtime that's being disrupted right now. Tomorrow morning might be a challenge since that's a major shift in his plans for the weekend. Coming here for a few hours might be just what he needs to keep his mind occupied."

"Well, feel free to bring him; you're both welcome here."

"Okay. Edward?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you. For everything. From the first time we met in the parking lot up until letting me crash your building site. You've been very kind, and I just want you to know how much I appreciate it."

"There's no need to thank me, Bella. We'll see you tomorrow sometime, right?"

"Right. Night, Edward."

"Goodnight, Bella." She gets in the van, and he watches her back out of the driveway and go down the street until her taillights have disappeared.

* * *

 **A/N: So, what do you think?**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Let's spend a little time with Alec. Thanks to my awesome beta, Alice's White Rabbit, and the maker of my beautiful banner, Christine at Christag_Banners.**

 **Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement** **is intended** **.**

* * *

The next morning, Bella and a too-excited-to-sit-still Alec pull up to the curb near the little ranch house just before nine. The sight that greets them gives both of them pause, but for different reasons.

Everyone's vehicles are parked along the curb of the cul-de-sac leaving the driveway clear for what appears to be a championship-level basketball game being played with the saddest looking portable hoop Bella has ever seen.

All five guys from the night before are there along with another younger man who resembles Sam. Nobody is holding back as the ball is passed, stolen, and shot with speed and precision. Alec is enthralled by the pace and quality of the game, and in awe of Emmett's size.

"Mama, that one guy is HUGE!" he whispers, eyes as big as saucers.

Bella can't help the chuckle that escapes as he mimics her comment from the day before. "I know he is, sweetie; I know."

Bella is fairly well-versed in the game, but what keeps her glued to her seat is the damned heat wave Seattle has been suffering through for the past few days. Even at this hour of the morning, the temperature has topped 80 degrees, so all of the guys—every damned one of them—is playing shirtless.

Each of them is in great shape. Though Emmett has the mammoth bulging muscles, Sam and Jake are nearly as big. Jasper and Edward have leaner physiques, though their muscles are still well defined. The new guy is definitely lanky, but it's clear he'll rival Sam or Jake in size in a year or two. It seems they've been playing for a while since their skin shimmers with a layer of sweat.

"Oh my. I've crossed over into the land of the beautiful people," Bella mumbles.

"What, Mom?"

"Nothing, honey," she says, shaking her head and giving Alec a smile. "Let's go; I'll introduce you."

"Okay," he says, and they unbuckle their seatbelts and climb out of the van.

The sound of the doors closing draws Edward's attention, and he jogs over to them.

"Hey, good morning!" he greets her with a welcoming smile.

"Good morning," she says, smiling back.

"I was glad to get your text this morning. It's great that you and Alec could make it." He turns to face Alec. "Hi, Alec, I'm Edward," he says, holding out his fist for a bump.

"Hi," Alec says, a little shyly as he returns the gesture.

"Well, Alec couldn't wait to come when I told him all the tools he could work with here. So, what's all this? The hoop wasn't here yesterday," Bella observes.

"We found it last night after you left. It was laying on the ground behind the shed so we pulled it out here and brought the ball with us this morning. It's pretty beat up but the base is solid, and the hoop's straight, so it's all good. Do you want to shoot some hoops with us, Alec?" he asks.

Alec looks pleadingly at his mom.

"It's okay; go on ahead," she encourages him.

"Awesome!" he declares excitedly.

Edward motions for Alec to walk with him while he takes the first few steps backward so he can face Bella. "We'll start work in about 20 minutes. There's some breakfast stuff in the kitchen that Esme brought, and there's coffee, if you'd like some."

"Ah, coffee, the magic word. Thanks," she replies. He nods and turns, catching up with Alec and calling the other guys to come meet him.

She watches as Alec, dwarfed by all these tall men coming to stand around him, confidently shakes hands and even brags a little about his hook shot. Emmett and Edward start arguing about whose team he will be on as she makes her way into the house. She returns minutes later to sit on the front stoop, coffee in hand, watching them finish their game. Edward won the fight to get Alec on his team, and Alec gets a lot of ball handling time. Just before the alarm on Jake's phone goes off, indicating the end of the game, Alec makes a pretty impressive hook shot that brings his team into the lead.

"No fair!" Emmett immediately exclaims as the other guys congratulate Alec and slap him on the back. "Alec, you're a ringer. I demand a rematch, and you're on my team next time. We're gonna whip Edward's butt," he declares.

"Sure, Em, we can do that," Alec readily agrees, eyes alight with excitement. "Mom! Did you see that amazing shot I made? I made the game-winning shot!" he calls to her as the group walks toward the house. The guys all grab their shirts, pulling them on as they approach the door.

She stands and gives Alec a high five. "I saw it, and it was fantastic."

"Yeah, yeah, enough bragging by the victors; time to get to work." Emmett interrupts in a mock sullen tone. "Alec, you're with me. I've got a feeling you're skilled with tools too, and I'm not letting you make Edward's work easier when you can be helping me," he says, placing a hand on Alec's shoulder and guiding him into the house.

"Morning, Bella," Jake says, passing by her.

"Hey, Jake," she replies.

"Hi, Bella," Sam says, greeting her with a smile. "This is my younger brother Seth. He's helping us out today. Seth, this is Edward's friend Bella."

"Hey, Bella, it's nice to meet you. I'd shake your hand but I'm already sweaty and gross," Seth says with an easy smile.

"That's okay, Seth. It's nice to meet you too."

They all file into the house and meet in the kitchen, which has become the unofficial headquarters for the project. Everyone is chugging water from bottles Jasper pulled from the fridge as well as inhaling the bagels and donuts Esme left.

Emmett takes charge, determining the priority of projects for the day and assigning workers. Bella ends up working with Edward again, prepping the rest of the house for work. They spend hours removing light fixtures from walls and ceilings, and taking down doors. Their last project of the morning is removing some built-in bookshelves in the former den.

Alec has the time of his life working with Emmett and Jasper. Completely outfitted with the proper safety gear, they take him into the living room and let him use a small sledge hammer on the old fireplace façade that needs to be removed. He spends the rest of the morning helping Sam, Jake, and Seth pull up the last of the hardwood floor, which he declares "cool" because he gets to hammer a crowbar underneath the wood slats and rip them up.

At noon, the crew breaks for lunch, Alec chattering away with all the guys who are treating him like one of the gang. Before his lunch is even half-finished, he's asking if they can play another game of basketball before he has to go back to his dad's place.

"Well, I don't know if we have time for a full game, pal," Edward says.

"How about a game of HORSE?" Emmett suggests.

Bella gives a pointed look toward her watch, knowing sometimes that game can take a while to name a winner, then returns her gaze to Emmett, but he misses her meaning. Edward, though, is quick to pick up on it.

"Maybe MULE?" Edward offers.

"MULE?" Emmett asks incredulously. "What the heck, Eddie? It's HORSE."

Edward's eyes have not left Bella's face, which still has a hesitant expression.

"PIG?" he asks.

Her eyes light up, and she nods with a smile.

"PIG it is," he affirms. "Come on, Alec, Emmett, anyone who wants in. We're playing PIG."

"Eddie, this isn't a barnyard. Why the heck are we playing PIG?" Emmett asks.

Exasperated, Edward turns to him. "Because he and Bella have to leave soon, and it's all we'll have time for, doofus."

"Ohhh, so you shortened the name, got it. Sorry I missed that one, Bella."

"No worries, Emmett."

The entire group heads out of the house, and soon the sounds of dribbling, cheers, jeers, and trash talk can be heard. Bella watches from the stoop, relaxed and grateful for all the fun Alec has had without any drama. It's a good day.

As soon as a winner is named—Emmett in this game—Bella has Alec say his goodbyes, and they get in the van to take him to Mike's house.

* * *

 **A/N: Only two chapters left. I'll probably post them both before the end of the weekend. Thanks for reading.**


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks to my awesome beta, Alice's White Rabbit, and the maker of my beautiful banner, Christine at Christag_Banners.**

 **Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement** **is intended** **.**

* * *

Bella's back just over an hour later, and the guys are working in the kitchen. The food and make-shift table have been moved as they work to take down all the cabinets. Bella joins in, and before long, they are back to removing drywall in order to open the kitchen area up to the dining room. It's another dusty afternoon with lots of opportunity for swinging a hammer and even a few roundhouse kicks.

As the afternoon draws to a close, Sam, Jake, and Seth take their leave, promising to be back later in the week.

"Esme has invited us back to the house for dinner tonight," Edward tells Bella. "I believe she has promised something that's 'not out of a box.' Would you like to join us? She'd love to feed you as a small token of appreciation for all of your hard work."

"Oh, she doesn't have to thank me. This is my therapy, remember? And I wouldn't want to intrude on a family dinner."

"You wouldn't be intruding. Not at all."

"Thank you, but I don't want to be out late tonight. I haven't worked like this in a long time. I'll be paying the price over the next few days, I'm sure."

"Well, I'm not going to twist your arm. Will you sit and have a beer with me out back before you leave?"

" _That_ sounds great. I'm parched!"

He grabs a couple beers from the fridge, and they go out to the back yard, settling in some chairs by the fire pit.

"Alec seemed to have a good time today," Edward observes, handing Bella a beer.

"Oh, my gosh, it was sanctioned destruction. That's like Nirvana to him!" she laughs.

They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes before Edward clears his throat.

"So . . ." he starts, hesitantly.

When he doesn't continue, Bella snorts then immediately covers her mouth in embarrassment. Laughing, she lowers her hand. "Yes?" she prompts, stretching out the word.

"Yesterday when we were talking, you shared some pretty tough stuff."

"Ah. Yes."

"I was wondering, if you didn't mind talking some more. I admit I'm curious about what happened after that incident between Alec and Mike."

"No, I don't mind talking about it." She pauses to take a sip from her beer and collect her thoughts. "That entire time period was scary. You know that I'm from Forks. My dad is the chief of police there. When Alec and I showed up that night and I told him what had happened, he was livid. He never liked Mike. He knew a little about how he would speak to me, but none of the major stuff. He was my rock through the whole mess. He came back here with me the next day to go to family court and request a restraining order."

"What was Mike's reaction to all of that?"

She shakes her head in disbelief. "Well, Mike came home after storming out that night and found us gone. He started texting me, asking where I was and when we would be home. I told him his behavior had crossed a line and that we had left. I said I'd be in touch in a few days and not to bother texting anymore because I was turning off my phone."

She laughs lightly. "I can't tell you how a simple thing like turning off my phone brought me such a sense of relief and tranquility. Knowing I had a block of time when I didn't have to deal with his nonsense was just the start of my realizing how completely overbearing and manipulative he was.

"Anyway, my dad had contacted the local victim's resource center, and they sent someone to help me out at court. There was a lot of paperwork to do where I had to tell what happened, and it was pretty emotional for me. Having her support was a real help, and the judge did grant the restraining order."

"I'm going to guess that didn't go over well with Mike."

"Ha! No, it didn't, but I didn't care at that point. Plus, I didn't realize at the time, but the resource center staff are mandated reporters, so the woman who helped me at court had to report the abuse to Child Protective Services. By the time Mike got the restraining order, he was also being investigated by them, so he was pretty angry with me about the whole thing. To this day, he maintains he may have lost his temper but he didn't behave inappropriately. He also vehemently denies that he was ever abusive."

Edward shakes his head in disbelief. "So, how did Alec handle all that?"

"Well, at first, he was okay with it. I mean, he had been really scared that night with Mike, and he had a right to be. I just told him that Daddy did some things he shouldn't have, and he had to learn to control his temper. I said what was most important was that he and I were safe. He understood that because he knew what Mike had done was wrong."

"What do you mean 'at first'? Alec feels differently now?"

"Well, all that happened four years ago, and the divorce took two years and was pretty acrimonious. Mike has done a good job making me the bad guy in all of this. He points out to Alec that I was the one to file for divorce and told him throughout the whole process that we could all be a family again if 'Mom would just change her mind'."

"What a manipulative asshole!"

"I know, right! Any kid wants their parents together, and if one of them offers that, well, yeah. I don't know how much you heard in the parking lot that day, but Alec was refusing to go to soccer practice that night, and I told him he had to because he had made that commitment. Anyway, he went off, spewing what I'm sure he's heard come directly from Mike, that I can't keep a commitment, I'm a coward, I gave up on the marriage, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. He's really put Alec in the middle and continues to be his controlling, manipulative, narcissistic self.

"My friend Angela says I'm still too nice to Mike. Maybe I am, but if Mike is already putting all this crap on Alec, I don't want to add to it. I want to be a safe place for him. I just trust that, as he gets older, he'll see things for what they are. In the meantime, I'm just going to be the best mom I can be."

"Alec is lucky to have one parent whose head is screwed on right," Edward observes.

"Well, I try."

"So, besides his dad, what are some of the things going on with Alec?"

"Well, I think you saw today how great he can be. He's smart, a model student, and you saw his hook shot! And his sense of humor; he just cracks me up all the time. Until he hits this mental wall. The smallest thing can set him off, and it's like I just can't reach him.

"Part of it is I think Alec was simply born with a temper, but I also can't discount the example he's had in Mike. What Alec's seen is that, when you get mad, it's okay to yell and say ugly things and sometimes hit. That's powerful. I don't know how to undo that."

"I see what you mean. You said that day in the parking lot that you and Alec were seeing a professional. How's that going?"

"Well, she's fine. I actually really like her, but I don't know that she's the right person to help us address the entirety of Alec's problems."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she has a very narrow scope of practice, helping us identify behavioral skills Alec may be lagging behind in and formulating strategies that will help him develop those skills. I've seen improvement in some areas. We have a system now for homework, and we're working on a better bedtime routine."

"Well, that's good, right?"

"It's very good. I just think there's more to Alec's situation than those things. He suffers from very real anxiety that can paralyze him at times. I'd like to have a formal psychiatric evaluation done that will help determine if he might benefit from some medication, but Mike refuses. I'm not saying medication is always the answer, and I don't even know if it would be right for Alec, but I feel like we're remiss if we don't consider it as a possible treatment option."

"I know a lot of people who have benefited from proper medication. What's Mike's issue with it?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's just control? If there were a way to help Alec medically, then it wouldn't be all my fault. Or, in his messed up way of thinking, it would be saying there was something 'wrong' with Alec. That's just ridiculous! If Alec had an infection, he'd get him antibiotics without a second thought. I don't know why Mike puts such a stigma on meds for mental health."

"Ah. So it's a pride thing, maybe? 'No kid of mine' type of thing?" Edward suggests.

"Sounds like as good a reason as any."

"But you don't have a real concrete course of action for Alec right now?"

"Not really. At one point, the psychologist suggested he might benefit from being on a low dose of an anti-anxiety medication. She couldn't prescribe it, but our pediatrician agreed to do it as long as Alec continued to see the psychologist. Unfortunately, Mike called the pediatrician and told him not to prescribe it."

"Couldn't you fight him on that? I mean, you had licensed medical professionals saying it was a good idea."

"I think I could have, but we were in the middle of the divorce settlement, and I knew if I rocked the boat on the medication, he would just make a mess of everything else. But," she says, holding up a finger, "we did get it included in our settlement that he's obligated to give Alec any medication he's prescribed. I thought that would be the end of it, but it wasn't."

"What do you mean? It seems like the agreement should have solved the problem."

"Well, a couple things happened at that point. First, the psychologist recommended a formal psychiatric evaluation. If that indicated Alec could benefit from medication, it would give us all something concrete to hold up against Mike's objections. Also, not surprisingly, around that time, Mike started undermining the psychologist to Alec, and Alec started refusing to go. So that was a Catch-22 since the pediatrician required that as part of the prescription."

"What could Mike possibly do to undermine the psychologist?"

"Oh, he's a master at that sort of thing, and kids at that age don't have the ability to really reason things out. He told Alec she used to be on his 'side' but claimed I bribed her, and now she was on 'my' side so she clearly couldn't be trusted or counted on to be a good psychologist. Alec totally lost faith in her after that."

Edward's mouth dropped open. "He told your son that you had bribed the psychologist? That guy has no shame!"

"You're preaching to the choir here, Edward.

"So, you haven't gotten the evaluation for Alec yet?"

"Not yet, but I haven't given up. There aren't a lot of child psychiatrists around, so first, I have to find one that's accepting new patients, then make sure the doctor's office accepts our insurance. That's tedious but not the challenging part. Most psychiatrists won't treat a child unless both parents are on board with the treatment plan. I understand that, I really do. But, I've explained my situation to a couple offices and asked if they could do just the evaluation without Mike's consent, and so far, it hasn't worked out. I mean, the evaluation might indicate there's no need for medication, and that would be fine with me. At least, I would know we weren't ignoring a potentially helpful treatment path. I don't know, the system just seems to be a giant Pandora's Box sometimes," she finishes.

Edward nods his agreement.

"My turn," she says, nudging his foot with her toe.

"Your turn for what?" he asks with a smile.

"I get to ask questions, and you get to answer."

"I'm an open book for you, Bella. Shoot," he says, leaning back in the chair and sprawling his feet in front of him.

"Okay." She regards him thoughtfully for a moment. "What makes you so different from everyone else?"

His face registers genuine surprise at her question. "Are you asking me why I'm the class weirdo?" he asks with a smile.

"What? No! Oh gosh, that just didn't come out right at all. I'm sorry." She hurries to correct his thinking. "What I meant was, my experience with you has been very different from my experience with anyone else who's become involved when Alec is having a meltdown."

"Oh, I see."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not completely jaded. I get that people are busy. When they see something like that, it's just a sliver of our lives, but most folks can't help but make judgments. Admittedly, usually not favorable ones about me or Alec. They make that snap judgment then some decide to insert themselves into the situation. Sometimes, they want to make sure I'm not beating my son, who's screaming bloody murder. Sometimes, they give me a piece of their mind for raising such a disrespectful, spoiled brat. You're the only person ever to step forward without any sort of judgment. So, while you're not the class weirdo, I do want to know what makes you different."

Just then, Jasper pokes his head out the back door of the house and calls to them. "Hey, are you two coming to Esme's tonight?"

"Nah," Edward calls back. "Tell her thanks, and I'll call her later."

"Edward, you should go. I didn't mean to keep you from a family dinner," Bella says earnestly as she starts to stand.

He places a hand on her knee, encouraging her to stay seated. "It's fine. I see them several times a week; I'm not missing out on anything. You asked me a good question, and you deserve an answer, okay?"

"Okay," she says, relaxing back in her seat.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Jasper," Edward calls toward the house.

"Sounds good. See you, Bella."

"Good night, Jasper," she replies, giving him a wave as he closes the door and disappears back into the house.

"What do you say to having a fire again tonight and ordering some food for delivery?" Edward asks. "We can delve into the 'mystery that is Edward Masen' once the food gets here."

"Well, there's a plan. Do you like Chinese? I've been dying for Chinese all week."

"I love it."

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 **A/N: Only one chapter left…**


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: This is it friends. Let's find out what makes Edward so . . . Edward, and see where that leads. I'll see you at the bottom.**

 **Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement** **is intended** **.**

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They decide what they want to eat, and Bella places their order while Edward starts the fire. They make a game out of tossing rocks back and forth to each other across the fire and make small talk as they wait for the food. Once it arrives, they place another chair between them to set the food on, and Edward brings out some extra beers.

"I love feeling hungry because of good old-fashioned physical work. It makes the food taste better," Bella raves as she shoves some chopsticks into a box of lo mein and pulls out a huge bite of the tasty noodles. "Watch out, I may just inhale all of this," she says, taking a taste of the food, her eyes closing in delight at the flavor.

"Yeah, but you'll just be hungry again in an hour," he deadpans, shoveling some sesame chicken into his own mouth.

She gives him a bored look and talks around the noodles in her mouth. "You didn't just say that."

"I never claimed to be an actual comedian. Tired clichés are about the best I've got."

"Well then, keep them to yourself," she teases. "So, Edweirdo, you owe me an answer."

"You didn't just call me that," he replies, mimicking her bored look and tone from a moment before. "You're taking me right back to my playground days, Dusty. That's harsh," he says, his tone laced with mock hurt.

"Kids didn't really call you that, did they?" she asks seriously.

"Nah," he smirks at her. "Well, except Emmett. But he's the exception to so many things . . ."

She laughs loudly at his joke.

"Seriously, though," he starts, wiping his mouth with his napkin. "Esme and Carlisle adopted me and my sister, Alice. I was nearly 12-years-old."

"Oh, I didn't realize. Don't most adoptions happen at a younger age?" she asks.

"I suppose they do, but our parents were killed in a car accident when I was eleven. Alice was just seven."

"Oh, Edward! I can't imagine losing both your parents so young! Wasn't there any family who could take care of you and your sister?"

"Well, my parents had arranged for my father's sister, my Aunt Eleanor, to be our guardian if anything happened to them. Unfortunately, she died from cancer about two years before the accident. I guess it was just one of those things my parents hadn't gotten around to updating. At any rate, she was the only sibling between them, and she never had children of her own, so there truly were no other blood relatives."

Bella is dismayed by his story. "I just, well, I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry, Edward."

He smiles at her softly. "Thank you. Nothing can make up for losing my parents like that, but it turned out better than it could have. We ended up with Esme and Carlisle and that was a real blessing. Since we were older, Alice and I could have been split up and sent to different homes. There's no question that would have broken both of us.

"We were in foster care briefly and fortunate in that situation as well. The couple they placed us with really did have hearts of gold. Mr. and Mrs. Banner were middle-aged and had fostered a number of children over the years, several of them with various disabilities. They even adopted a couple of them.

"Anyway, in some quirky twist of fate, Carlisle had been part of the treatment team who cared for my aunt. He actually performed the initial surgery to remove the first tumors they found. Aunt Eleanor was a very gregarious lady and easy to love. She struck up a friendship with Carlisle, and when she met Esme, well, I guess they bonded immediately, became as thick as thieves. Apparently, Aunt Eleanor talked excessively about me and Alice.

"Carlisle met both my parents at various times when they would take my aunt to doctors' appointments. Then Esme met them at her funeral. They tell us they met me and Alice there too, but we don't remember it. When my parents passed, it was the obituary that caught Esme's attention. It was seeing the Masen name that initially drew her to read it. When she saw the first names, and realized both our mother and father had been killed, naturally she felt awful for us. According to her, though, the real kicker was when she realized Alice and I were the only living relatives mentioned. She and Carlisle made it their mission to see what they could do to help us.

"They had been foster parents before Emmett was born, so they applied to be recertified and worked to have us placed with them. They made it clear we had a home with them permanently; we wouldn't have to be bounced around."

"And then they adopted you?"

"Uh, yeah. Like I said, Alice was just seven when our folks died. She remembers them, but not as strongly as I do. We'd been with Carlisle and Esme for a while when, one day, she called Esme 'mom.' It just slipped out, natural as can be. So, they started talking to us about adoption and asking if it was something we would want. It was obvious Alice wanted it desperately. She wanted people she could rightfully call 'mom and dad.' Well, if she wanted it, I was going to do it with her. It was a good call, too. They've been wonderful. Emmett's a questionable part of the package . . ." he trails off teasingly.

She chuckles, sitting back and watching the fire. Before she can formulate another question for him, he starts speaking.

"Bella, my experiences growing up are why I came over to you in the parking lot that day; why I approached you at the coffee shop; why I invited you to join us here. I know what it's like to have life go in some unplanned direction that affects you deeply. And I know what it's like to have people step forward and offer to help in meaningful ways. Even when you don't understand why they're helping you.

"When we were with the Banners, we got to know their son, James. He was a foster child they adopted. Anyway, he had severe ADHD and oppositional defiant disorder. I assume you know what that is?"

She gives a snort-laugh that is wholly without humor. "Yes, I am intimately familiar with that term and many others. The psychologist and I have talked about several possible diagnoses. We don't think Alec has ADHD. She has said he has 'possible ODD' but that's the closest she's come to a diagnosis without a formal psychiatric evaluation."

"I thought that might be the case. Well, I watched James struggle trying to control his emotions and behave differently. In his calmer moods, we would talk, and it was clear he wanted to be good, but he got in his own way most of the time. The endless patience and kindness the Banners had with him was nothing short of amazing. Naturally, I didn't understand the full scope of the situation as a kid. It was when I reflected on it as an adult that I began to grasp the complexity of the situation. That time taught me things aren't always as they seem.

"Then, having Esme and Carlisle bring us into their home and family felt like a miracle to me. I mean, who were these people? They were friends of my dead aunt's, for goodness sake. They owed me and Alice nothing. At just twelve, I was preparing to face the world on my own, adjusting to the idea that I'd have to make it without parents. Then, they just showed up. I felt like they came out of nowhere, pulling me from a raging sea into the safety of a lifeboat. It was like I didn't have to always be prepared to do battle with the world. I don't know how else to explain it. But I learned how important it can be to have compassion and be willing to give a bit of yourself."

Bella slumps in her chair, taken aback by the sincerity of his earnestly spoken words.

"Well, that does explain a lot about you," she agrees. She pauses to collect her thoughts while Edward picks absently at the label of his beer bottle.

"It's not like I'm alone in the world, you know," she says, a bit defensively. "I have a couple of really close friends here in Seattle, and my dad is always there for me."

"I wasn't implying you didn't have support, Bella."

"It's not ideal," she continues. "My dad's over three hours away, and Alec and I can't move closer because of the custody agreement. My friends, especially Angela and Ben, are great with Alec. But he's not their responsibility."

"I could be another source of support for you, Bella," he says softly. "Let me help you and Alec where I can."

"Listen, Edward, you were great with Alec today. All of you were. I don't want to be rude, but how can you help me? I mean really help me?"

"I could be someone you vent to when you're angry and frustrated. I could go on a beer run for you when Alec goes to his dad's," he says, grinning. Getting serious again, he continues. "I could see if Carlisle can help with finding an adolescent psychiatrist who would see Alec. I could, maybe, help you feel a little less alone in all of this. I could be your friend, Bella."

She takes a moment to absorb his words. Closing her eyes, she considers their meaning. Taking a deep breath, she visualizes times in an average day when what he suggests could happen.

She realizes how nice it would be if Angela wasn't always the one to bear the brunt of her frustrations. She recognizes the relief her dad would feel knowing she had another person nearby to count on. Her lips quirk at the idea of having another friend to relax and have a drink with. The tension she didn't realize was gripping her chest begins to loosen just a little at the thought of finding a real medical advocate for Alec.

Slowly, the very color of her thoughts seems to shift. Everything brightens and becomes more alive. She feels lighter. She's surprised to find it's easier to breathe.

She realizes she didn't know. She didn't know how dark and depressing and restrictive her thoughts had become. She didn't realize how heavy her role as a parent had become. She didn't realize how much of a difference it would make to have just one person offer to walk alongside her.

She opens her eyes, now swimming with tears, and raises them until she's gazing directly into Edward's clear green ones before saying two heartfelt words.

"Thank you."

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 **A/N: Please be gentle with one another. Be slow to judge. Be quick to offer generous doses of empathy and compassion. Be willing to take the journey – or just a few steps of it – with someone who carries a heavy load; it can make a world of difference.**

 **Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review this story, and those who decided to follow or favorite it (or me!). You showed me so much love and, well, let me just 'shut up and graciously accept' it! While I can see where this story might go, it's not on my radar right now to continue it since I have some other things in the works. Never say never though. I wanted to show how much it can mean to simply walk alongside someone on a difficult journey. I hope I accomplished that.**

 **As always, thanks to my awesome beta, Alice's White Rabbit, and the maker of my beautiful banner, Christine at Christag_Banners.**


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